Honor Enough
by Sentimental Star
Summary: AU. VoDT. Two years after their first adventure with Caspian, Edmund and Lucy return to Narnia.  There, they are tested in ways only their older siblings will understand...EDIT: CH. 4 IS UP!-Siblingfic. Book and Moviebased.- -SEQUEL TO KEEPING THE FAITH-
1. Cambridge, 1943

**WARNING:** Over the next however many chapters, you may wish to have a tissue box and chocolate within easy reach. When I took on this challenge, I made a promise to myself that I would explore the various characters and their thoughts, feelings, and motivations in-depth. That means potential for much messiness ahead!

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to C. S. Lewis and Walden Media.

_**Soundtrack Recommendations:**_ "Opening Titles" and "The Calm Before the Storm"—_Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ movie soundtrack.

_**Author's Note:**_ Erm…because I can't write anything centered on Edmund without including Peter, too? ::sheepish grin:: After my third time watching _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_, I decided there were some things I _really_ wanted to fix—namely, certain aspects of Edmund's character (he's _jealous_ of Peter? Good grief—he was over that ages ago. And greed? _So_ not how I pictured him.) This isn't to give the movie a bad rap (heck, if I've seen it three times…)—the movie itself was actually quite lovely. I wasn't even terribly happy with Edmund's temptation scene in the book. This is just my version of the events—and I figured, hey, why not pull from my _Keeping the Faith_ universe while I'm at it? So here it is—I hope you enjoy it!

_**Dedication:**_ To _**Berserker Nightwitch**_, because it was her suggestion to redo _VoDT_ and fix Ed's character—many thanks and hours of inspiration here, I hope ::grins::.

_**Rating:**_ T/M (for intense moments and possibly difficult issues)

_**Summary:**_ Two years after their adventure with Caspian, Edmund and Lucy return to Narnia. There, they are tested in ways only their older siblings will understand…(AU. _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_) (Book and Moviebased) (Siblingfic) (_NO _Slash) (SEQUEL TO KEEPING THE FAITH)

"_**Speech"**_

_**/Personal Thoughts/**_

_**Excerpts/Quotes/Memories (Italics)**_

_**(1) **Paraphrased quote from __Prince Caspian__, p. 284 in __The Complete Chronicles of Narnia__ (Illustrated)._

_Honor Enough_

_By Sentimental Star_

_Prologue: Cambridge, 1943_

_

* * *

_"_You might have been aware, King Caspian, that you could not be a true King of Narnia unless, like King Peter and King Edmund, you were a Son of Adam. That is honor enough to erect the head of the lowliest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor. Bear it well, and bravely, for it is by these merits that you shall judge and be judged."—Aslan, Chapter XXIII of __Keeping the Faith_**(1)**.

_

* * *

_

"Come on, Ed, it won't be _all_ bad…"

A soft, indignant "_Hmph_," answered the speaker. He was a handsome lad, tall and broadly built with golden hair that shone in the sun. Several young women cast him approving glances from underneath the brims of their white hats as he passed them by that afternoon, often passing right over his darker shadow.

Which suited Edmund just fine. He knew Peter and Susan were the lookers in their family and did not care to change that anytime soon.

(Actually, he received his own share of attention, but, unlike his brother who remained oblivious, he deliberately ignored it.)

Completely unaware of the glances he drew as they passed under the stone archway of a chapel and onto the busy street towards the other end of the market, Peter smirked warmly, lightly tousling his younger brother's hair. "So challenge him to a duel if he becomes too unbearable."

Edmund snorted quietly. "Peter…are you _trying_ to get me in trouble with Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold?"

Peter hitched his rucksack over one shoulder and hefted the bread box under the other. A slight frown furrowed his brow.

Edmund noticed, and lightly punched his arm. "Oh, dry up, you git. We'll probably be absolutely miserable, but I'm sure we'll find a way to cope with it. We always have."

"You know I'd stay if I could, Ed-"

Edmund rolled his eyes, hitching the sack of apples higher up over his shoulder. "You're very lucky apples are hard to come by, else I'd hit you with them. You ass…_Lucy and I_ _will be fine_. You just focus on your studies with Professor Kirke."

Peter sighed. "I just don't like the fact that we're all split apart this summer. I know that Finchley still isn't safe, and that Susan would gladly have stayed, but-"

A sudden shout interrupted him: "You! You, there! Young man!"

Both brothers jerked around, terribly startled.

Initially, Edmund welcomed the distraction…until he located its origin.

An older man, dressed in the service uniform of the military, stood in front of the entrance to the University of Cambridge's Infirmary; Edmund's stomach curdled when he realized they had converted it into a temporary recruiting station, and it further knotted when he realized the sergeant had been the one flagging down Peter.

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he cautiously glanced up at his brother, stiffening when he noticed the thoughtful look creasing Peter's face.

He knew what the older boy was thinking: Peter was nearly seventeen. If this war went on much longer then it was quite likely he would end up being conscripted. If he did not act now, wouldn't the war swallow them up, one by one? But war in this world was different and…Edmund wouldn't be with him this time around.

The thirteen-year-old's eyes burned: /Don't you _dare_!/ he thought fiercely at his brother, as his breathing hitched.

At that moment, Lucy's voice sang out over the crowd, "Peter! Edmund! You're supposed to be helping me with the groceries. Come on, if we don't head back now, we'll be late for supper!"

Their little sister's shout had never been more welcome than it was now.

/Oh, thank Aslan,/ Edmund thought, gratefully shutting his eyes. Beside him, Peter smiled diplomatically at the man and gave a _'What can you do?'_ sort of shrug, /She has impeccable timing./

Another young man had come up behind them in the meantime, and amicably ruffled Peter's hair. "Better luck next time, mate," he advised him with a warm laugh, heading inside.

Edmund opened his eyes long enough to lay a smoldering glare on the fellow's back as he entered the infirmary. Unfortunately, it did little except make the other young man grin at him and wave cheerfully as he stepped inside.

Peter's arm suddenly hooked around his neck: "Come on, Ed. The Lady doth call." His brother—completely unaware of the interaction that had just passed—was grinning.

Flushing, Edmund grabbed the bakery box before his brother dropped it. "Knock it off, you git. Let's go."

But the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach would not leave, and Edmund led his brother away from the recruiting station at a rapid clip, all but fleeing towards the road.

"Hold up, Ed!" Peter called, chasing after him.

IOIOIOIOIOI

That night, Edmund couldn't sleep. Rolling over onto his side, he quietly studied his brother's peaceful countenance in the wan light filtering in through the shutters from the street lamps outside.

Somehow, they had both ended up sleeping on the recliner tonight, and although Aunt Alberta might complain, she couldn't really do anything about it. Peter was leaving tomorrow, anyway, first thing in the morning, and Edmund already dreaded the separation.

/How many months? As Peter said, Finchley's hardly safe at the moment. The Professor certainly can't keep us, not like last time-/

"Did you know," Peter's voice offered blearily, "worrying too much will give you premature wrinkles?"

Edmund tensed, not expecting his brother's playful voice to come out of the darkness beside him.

Chuckling softly, Peter rolled over onto his back. "Didn't mean to startle you," he murmured.

His younger brother relaxed. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" Edmund whispered.

Peter smirked gently, folding his arms behind his head as he gazed up at the younger boy. "Kind of difficult when your baby brother's stare is burning a hole into your head. What's up, Ed? Can't sleep?"

Edmund snorted quietly. "I'd think that would be obvious, Peter."

Peter grinned and held out an arm. "Get over here, then."

Shifting, Edmund moved so he could curl up against Peter's side as his brother's hand rubbed lightly across his back. Resting his chin on the older boy's chest, Edmund shut his eyes.

As Peter's hand continued its steady circular motion across his shoulder blades, the sixteen-year-old murmured, "Is this about what happened today?"

Edmund opened his eyes and gazed quietly back at Peter, keeping his face carefully blank.

A moment later, he heard his brother sigh, but his hand never ceased its gentle motion. "Have it your way, then."

Edmund expected Peter to prod, perhaps even pry, but his older brother did nothing of the sort. After a long, slightly uncomfortable silence, Edmund slowly released his breath, "You're not going to push me?"

Another gentle smirk played across Peter's lips, "No. I figure you'll tell me eventually. It isn't important right now, Ed. I just want you to try and get some sleep."

Edmund watched him carefully a moment, before scooting up and curling lengthwise beside him, resting his head in the crook of Peter's neck; his eyes drifted shut again. "Good night, Peter," he murmured.

Kisses pattered his forehead. "G'night, Ed," Peter replied, just as quietly.

IOIOIOIOIOI

Breakfast the next morning was rather rushed. Although Peter, Edmund, and Lucy had been up with the dawn, Aunt Alberta had lain in bed long past the time she was due to get up, claiming a stomach ache.

Edmund wouldn't have minded so much, but a rushed breakfast meant Peter would be late for his train if they didn't hurry up. Therefore, the siblings' goodbyes were also rushed.

When Peter stood on the front doorstep, leaning his suitcase against his knee and waiting for Uncle Harold to start up the car, Edmund felt his stomach drop. All three of the siblings knew it could be months until they saw each other again, which had been bad enough in Narnia, but here…

"I promise I'll write as often as I can," Peter advised his younger siblings quietly. He smiled at Lucy, who had begun to look slightly teary-eyed, "And I'm sure Susan will, as well. You'll see—it will be as if we never left."

Edmund shook his head, biting his bottom lip. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lucy looked just as unconvinced.

Peter's face fell. "I know it doesn't seem that way, and I'd bundle you both off if I could, but-"

At that moment, Uncle Harold honked the car horn, causing Peter and both of his youngest siblings to start.

Casting a frustrated glower in the direction it had come from, the sixteen-year-old turned back to his brother and sister. "I have to go now. I'll call you tonight when I reach the Professor's, and again on Sunday." He tried a tentative smile, "I'm not all that far away, really."

A second blast from the car's horn sent Lucy hurtling forward to wrap her arms tightly around their elder brother's neck. Peter kissed her cheek and gave her waist a firm squeeze, before setting her gently back on her feet.

Turning to Edmund, he raised his head and held out his hand for the younger boy to take.

In spite of everything, Edmund snorted thickly. "Do you really think I'm going to let you go with merely _a_ _hand shake_, Peter?" Gripping his brother's hand, Edmund yanked him forward.

Peter embraced him, so tightly that Edmund's feet left the ground.

Burying his head in Peter's golden hair, Edmund resolutely ignored Uncle Harold's increasingly impatient honking and whispered, "Promise me you won't be an idiot, Pete, or do anything stupid."

Peter nodded against his head. "I promise," he whispered.

Edmund slid back to his feet. "You'd better get going," he muttered at last, dropping his gaze and pressing his hands firmly against his brother's chest in order to gently extricate himself from Peter's arms.

His older brother did not let him go that easily. A firm kiss was pressed to his forehead, "Hope springs eternal, Brother," Peter murmured. "Remember that."

_Tbc._


	2. Half Empty

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to C. S. Lewis and Walden Media.

_**Soundtrack Recommendations:**_ "Evacuating London"—from the _LWW_ soundtrack, and "High King and Queen of Narnia"—from the _VoDT_ soundtrack.

_**Author's Note:**_ ::scratches head and grins sheepishly:: As you can see, this is one stubborn plot bunny—it has bitten and I doubt it will let go anytime soon (especially not with how often I listen to the _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ soundtrack!). In any case, another relatively short chapter, but I hope you approve and enjoy it to its fullest!

_**Reviewers:**_ All _26_ of you, thank you!

_**Rating:**_ T

_**Summary:**_ Two years after their adventure with Caspian, Edmund and Lucy return to Narnia. There, they are tested in ways only their older siblings will understand…(AU. _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_) (Book and Moviebased) (Siblingfic) (_NO _Slash) (SEQUEL TO KEEPING THE FAITH)

"_**Speech"**_

_**/Personal Thoughts/**_

_**Memories/Excerpts (Italics)**_

_Honor Enough_

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter One: Half-Empty_

(A Month Later)

"Edmund! _Ed_…!" the crowd milling around and about her, hurrying to and fro as they picked up their purchases, swallowed Lucy's cry.

Groaning softly, the eleven-year-old adjusted the packages in her arms. "He chooses _today_ of all days to wander off and sulk…"

She knew that thought wasn't accurate, nor was it entirely fair. Edmund had weathered their separation from Peter far better than she ever would have hoped and the way he dealt with Eustace was nearly _heroic_…but, apparently, she had not watched him close enough.

"Why is it that out of all the brothers in the worlds, Susan and I get the one—two—who most stubbornly disregard their own happiness and welfare?"

Her soft grumbles went unheard by all except a very sharp pair of ears as she danced her way through the crowds, trying not to jostle arms or elbows—or her groceries—as she made her way along the street.

"Aslan only knows. But I would lay the blame squarely on Peter's shoulders."

Lucy stopped—and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Peter told me the exact same thing about you."

She turned…and smiled warmly at Edmund where her younger brother sat on the steps of the King's College chapel. "What are you doing there, Edmund?"

Edmund frowned, furrowing his brow as he watched the coming and goings from the University of Cambridge's infirmary over Lucy's shoulder. "Nothing really…"

Lucy knew where her brother's brooding dark gaze rested and inwardly sighed. "He'll keep his promise, Ed. He hasn't broken one to you, yet."

The thirteen-year-old smiled faintly, accepting the hand (with some creative juggling) Lucy held down to him. "Pete's right—you _do_ know us entirely too well. Here…let me hold the bread box before you drop it…"

Gratefully, Lucy relinquished her grip and gently pulled him to his feet, hustling him towards Aunt Alberta's bicycle before the sergeant crying, "To arms! To arms, England!" could spot him.

IOIOIOIOIOI

"We're back!" Lucy's voice rang out in the small foyer of the Scrubb home as Edmund helped her out of her coat. "Aunt Alberta! Uncle Harold!"

Much scuffling came from overhead and Lucy winced, just imagining the sort of mischief Eustace could have gotten into while they were away.

Edmund sighed tiredly and hung up Lucy's frock on the coat rack.

His little sister worried her bottom lip as she watched him. Somehow, over the course of the past month, anything Eustace did was construed to make it look like it had, in fact, been _Edmund_ who had done it. While Uncle Harold hardly cared, in Aunt Alberta's eyes Eustace _could_ _do no wrong_.

She therefore considered Edmund (who was constantly at odds with her darling baby boy) the demon.

What made Lucy mad was the fact that Edmund refused to blame their aunt.

"_She remembers me how I was, Lu," _Edmund often reminded her, _"not as who I am."_

Naturally, Eustace picked up on his mother's hostility…and made no effort to stop it. He had even instigated it a number of times.

Edmund never ratted on him—just quietly refuted Aunt Alberta's accusations and, failing that, accepted her ire graciously.

One of the only serious arguments Lucy and Edmund had had since coming to Cambridge was over why Edmund simply weathered it without objecting more strenuously.

Edmund had shrugged, smiling faintly: _"I'm a king, Lu, even if we aren't in our country. I may as well conduct myself as a king would."_

It often had Lucy in tears of frustration, because her brother was so_ good_ and so_ noble_…and his siblings were the only ones who could see it.

Edmund rubbed his eyes wearily, "Time to face the music," he muttered.

Lucy took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing his arm as they entered the living room.

"Uncle Harold, we're back!" she announced softly.

Fortune—and Aslan—were on their side: a glance into the kitchen as they neared it revealed Aunt Alberta had not yet returned.

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Lucy released Edmund's arm and took the bread box from him, calling over her shoulder to their uncle as she entered the kitchen, "I tried to find some carrots, but all they had were turnips." She set the bakery box on the kitchen table and shucked the bag she had used to carry the turnips on the counter. "Shall I start the stew? Aunt Alberta's not back, yet."

Only a cough answered her, and the rustle of a newspaper over the radio's drone: _"Air attacks continue over southern Britain…"_

Shutting her eyes and gritting her teeth in frustration, Lucy turned towards the threshold between kitchen and den, "Uncle _Harold_-"

She trailed off when her eyes fell on Edmund, where the younger of her two brothers stood in the doorway.

Wordlessly, he shook his head, chocolate eyes brooding and dark.

Lucy deflated, her shoulders hunching. Gently, she pressed past him, moving towards their uncle. "Please, Uncle Harold…" she began.

Edmund grimaced behind her.

"Father, _Father_! Edmund's making faces at you!"

Lucy inwardly groaned. /It appears Eustace is at home./

Their uncle finally raised his eyes from the newspaper, glaring balefully over the top of it at the three of them, more perturbed about his reading being interrupted than about what Edmund _did_ or _did not_ do.

Lucy pressed forward before their uncle could start lecturing her brother. "Please, Uncle Harold…Aunt Alberta isn't home, yet. Did you want me to start-"

Uncle Harold went back to his newspaper, flapping his hand impatiently at her.

"—supper," she completed in a murmur. She felt like crying.

Stepping forward, Edmund gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Lucy drew in a troubled breath, but nodded to let him know she was all right.

Smiling faintly, Edmund gave her a light squeeze, moving to release her

…and jerked.

Before Lucy could blink, he had spun around on his heels to face the stairs, automatically reaching for the sword that _wasn't_ strapped to his waist.

Long since conditioned to react to such violent movements on her siblings' part, Lucy spun around, too, reaching for the nearest form of weaponry.

They found only Eustace, clutching his blowpipe, as he stumbled backwards up the steps in quite a hurry. "_Father_!" their cousin's voice was a touch hysterical, "Edmund's going to kill me!"

Her brother rolled his eyes, relaxing out of his battle stance. "We should," he muttered.

When it became apparent his father was set on ignoring them, Eustace stopped his theatrical scrambling and glared at Edmund.

Lucy bit back a very un-queenlike giggle. Having been witness to the High King's full, unrestrained ire, Eustace's glare had about as much affect on Edmund as a pair of butterfly wings.

Deliberately turning his back on their cousin, Edmund smiled weakly at Lucy, "Need any help with supper, Lu?"

Just like that, any merriment seeped out of her. "That would be wonderful. Thank you, Edmund," she smiled tentatively at her older brother.

Eustace's frustrated glower rested on their backs as they headed back into the kitchen.

IOIOIOIOIOI

A floorboard creaking in her room woke Lucy that night.

One never slept well away from home and familiar people, and Lucy and her siblings had long ago conditioned themselves to wake at the faintest movement or slightest sound; it had often saved their lives.

Laying still, she kept her breathing even and low, straining her eyes in the gloom.

A hand brushed her forehead.

Immediately, Lucy relaxed, waiting expectantly for her brother to speak, as she'd never had much luck fooling him. Peter might fall for it, and Susan, too, on occasion, but never Edmund. He was entirely too observant.

But Edmund said nothing, merely continued to stroke Lucy's hair. A moment later, she heard him draw in a shuddering breath and felt him abruptly leave her bedside.

Well, she couldn't have that.

Waiting the five minutes to follow him was excruciating, but she gritted her teeth and bore it. Half-past one exactly, Lucy crept out of her bed and down the two flights of stairs into the living room.

She found Edmund huddled on the recliner, hunched in on himself.

As tears stung the corners of her eyes, Lucy slipped across the room to kneel in front of him, gingerly placing her hand on his shoulder.

Edmund snapped his head up, dark eyes wide in the gloom.

A moonbeam struck his face and Lucy winced. He wasn't crying…exactly, but with the sheer amount of loneliness and pain welling in his eyes, he may as well have been.

"Edmund…?" Lucy murmured thickly.

The thirteen-year-old's shoulder relaxed and he regarded her wearily, "Yes, Lu? Did you need anything?"

Lucy viciously bit down on her lip and vigorously shook her head. "_I_ don't," she responded stoutly, letting her hands hover next to his cheeks. "But _you_ do."

When she gently clasped his face between them, Edmund squeezed his eyes shut and glanced away.

Lucy hugged his neck, pouring all the comfort she could into the strength of that hold.

It took a moment, and Lucy was nearly certain her younger brother would pull away…when his arms suddenly twined tightly about her waist.

Edmund buried his head in her shoulder.

IOIOIOIOIOI

"You miss Peter…don't you?"

She spoke softly, never raising her voice above a whisper. Edmund nodded, wordlessly curling himself closer to her where the two siblings had since rearranged themselves on the recliner. Plainly, he wished Peter were there, too, but both of them knew that until their parents and Susan returned, or the bombings ended, that was all it could be—a wish.

"Ed…Susan told me something two years ago, just after we had gotten back from helping Caspian, and I think you should hear it…"

Again, Edmund nodded, not making a sound.

Lucy knew she could not take the place of their older brother—she wouldn't even try—but she _did_ know that Edmund still derived comfort from her, and she would give him every shred of it that she could.

"Did you know…when we were separated…Susan said she and Peter couldn't sleep properly."

Dark eyes tired and over-bright, Edmund finally lifted his head from her shoulder. Wearily quirking an eyebrow at her, the thirteen-year-old silently urged her ahead.

Lucy took a deep breath. "Do you know why, Ed?"

Her brother shook his head. He gave a rueful chuckle, "I'd imagine you're about to tell me, Lu, and why it's so important."

Lucy bit her lip, worrying the skin between her teeth. This could go either way, sending Edmund spiraling deeper into depression (which he had always been alarmingly prone to) or pull him just as easily from the doldrums (at least for now).

"They couldn't hear our heartbeats," she whispered at last.

_Tbc._


	3. Tumultuous Waters

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to C. S. Lewis and Walden Media.

_**Soundtrack Recommendations:**_ "Journey to the How"—from the _Prince Caspian_ movie soundtrack; "The Painting"—from the _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ movie soundtrack.

_**Author's Note:**_ Um…::winces:: I have just the slightest suspicion that my readers may not be happy with me ::rubs head sheepishly::. I meant to make this slightly longer and carry it into when Lucy and Edmund first board the _Dawn Treader_, but….well…let's just say, my writing got away from me. In any case, this is Eustace's chapter and I hope I've done the characters (all three of them) justice. Please enjoy and…um…_try_ not to kill me.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _52_ of you, thank you! I can't respond to everyone, but I hope you know how much I appreciate every single one of your reviews!

_**Rating:**_ T

_**Summary:**_ Two years after their adventure with Caspian, Edmund and Lucy return to Narnia. There, they are tested in ways only their older siblings will understand…(AU. _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_) (Book and Moviebased) (Siblingfic) (_NO _Slash) (SEQUEL TO KEEPING THE FAITH)

"_**Speech"**_

_**/Personal Thoughts/**_

_**Memories/Quotes (Italics)**_

**(1)** _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ pg. 294 in _The Complete Chronicles of Narnia_ (Illustrated; Hardcover).

_Honor Enough_

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Two: Tumultuous Waters_

(The Next Day, After Luncheon)

The two Pevensie siblings were unaware they had had company that night, and if they had been aware, it was doubtful that particular company would have been welcome. Of course, Eustace prided himself on his ability to hide almost anywhere, but it had been _three years_ since his cousins had been so abysmally oblivious to his presence.

Later (_much_ later), he would learn to be alarmed when such a situation arose. Now, it just frustrated him.

He considered himself an expert on all things Pevensie—a…Pevensiologist, as it were. But his cousins _weren't_ acting in predictable ways, at least not the ways he'd come to expect over the past three years. They had changed—_again_—and his previous observations were useless now. He did not much fancy revising his conclusions—particularly not when his cousins were so _uncooperative_—but he did have a certain determination, and it had only strengthened over the past month.

Were there any laws against pinning one's cousins to a card? He certainly knew there were laws against opening another person's mail, and therefore, found himself in something of a quandary.

Glaring down at the delicate handwriting of his older female cousin, Eustace turned the envelope over and over in his palms. He knew exactly how expensive it was to send letters by Air Mail, especially during wartime; but the letters sent between his eldest cousins and their younger siblings were frequent, and thick. They weren't _like_ any other sibling sets he knew (the Garrett twins would sooner beat each other up than exchange letters four pages thick), and he was sadly low on adequate examples by which to judge them.

Furthermore, it did not help that his rarely used conscience had chosen today to rear its head. Perhaps it helped that this letter belonged to Susan—of his four cousins, only she had been unfailingly kind to him these past two years (no matter how he rebuffed her for it).

Quite frankly, it baffled him, and he disliked being baffled (which was why he had taken to studying his cousins so closely). That did not mean he was willing to invade Susan privacy, however—even if the letter was addressed to Edmund and Lucy.

Eustace had filched the letter from the kitchen counter where Alberta had left it before heading off to play bingo. He now stood in front of the door leading into Lucy's bedroom, scowling fiercely at its peeling white paint.

Inside, he could hear his two youngest cousins speaking in quiet tones:

"…Lucy, this painting…"

Lucy had a grin in her voice as she responded, "You've noticed it, too, then? She's a very Narnian ship, isn't she?"

Eustace glared outright when he heard the name of his cousins' "secret country" (which he'd managed to find out about two years ago and had been his first clue that there was something abnormal about the way his cousins now behaved).

Edmund sighed. "Yes, she is. Just another reminder that we're here and not there."

Lucy still seemed to maintain her smile: "Even looking is better than nothing, and would you really want to go to Narnia without Peter and Susan?"

Edmund did not answer right away, and Eustace rolled his eyes, finally shoving the door open, "Still pining after Peter, are you?"

He caught a quick flash of alarm on his older cousin's face as Edmund spun around to face the door, before it melted away and the thirteen-year-old's expression became wooden. "You aren't wanted here," the older boy informed him curtly. "Get out."

Eustace glanced between Lucy (who had pursed her lips upon his entering the room) and her older brother, and grinned lazily, completely unaffected by Edmund's tone. He'd learnt three years ago that the quickest way to ignite Edmund's temper was to disparage Peter, Edmund's relationship with Peter, or both.

That was one thing that _hadn't_ changed about Edmund, and he'd been delighted to learn this summer that Lucy reacted nearly the same way when it involved Susan or Edmund. When it involved Peter, Edmund seemed to be speaking categorically for the both of them.

He slowly lifted Susan's letter and dangled it carelessly at his two cousins' eye level: "You won't want this, then, I suppose?" He smirked nastily.

Lucy's eyes widened and she darted forward, desperately snatching at it, "Edmund, it's from Susan!"

Eustace dodged just out of her grasp, ripping open the envelope and breaking apart the wax seal, "Let's just see what's in here, hmm?" He yanked the letter out and scanned its contents, a delighted smirk playing at his lips, "Oh, look, how quaint: _'Dearest Sister and my Dear Brother, I pray this letter finds you in good spirits and even better health…'_"

"Give it here!" Edmund demanded, grabbing for it.

Eustace ducked under his hand, still reading, "_'America is…interesting, I suppose. It certainly cannot compare to Narnia, however…'_"

At that, Eustace snorted derisively and dispassionately tossed the letter at Edmund's face. "Still playing your old games, I see."

"Are you _quite_ through?" Edmund asked him tersely, gently smoothing the crinkles out of their older sister's letter.

Lucy grabbed her brother's shirt sleeve, looking incredibly relieved. Edmund handed her the letter with a faint smile.

Eustace made a great show of stretching out on his younger cousin's bed, leaning back into the pillows. "It's my house. I can do whatever I want—you're just guests."

Edmund ignored him. "What does she say, Lu?"

Lucy had been scanning the letter's contents, now her face brightened and she began reading eagerly, "She says-"

Eustace scowled, disappointed with his cousins' lack of response. He was a boy who couldn't _stand_ being ignored, and he often voiced that sentiment loudly and with much displeasure.

"I've thought of a limerick," he announced presently.

Edmund rolled his eyes and deigned to turn his attention back to the younger boy. Lucy frowned at him for the interruption, but stopped reading.

Pleased that he had distracted them (even if only in his mind), Eustace's smirk stretched from ear to ear: "It goes something like this: Some kids who played games about Narnia. Got gradually balmier and balmier…" (1).

He was terribly startled when Edmund grinned fiercely back at him. "Lovely. I have a limerick, too: There once was a boy named Eustace. Who read books full of facts that were useless…"

Lucy smothered an errant giggle and Edmund slid her a stray smile.

It took a moment for Eustace to process the fact that Edmund was mocking him. When he did, a ferocious scowl covered his lips (which, after all, was hardly anything compared to Peter's, or even Susan's).

Upon receiving very little reaction—except for another small giggle from Lucy—Eustace huffed, "For your information, _normal_ people read such books all the time. It's people like _you_, who read books full of fairy stories and rhymes, and get these ridiculous notions in your heads, who become a hideous burden to sensible people like _me_."

Eustace had only a moment to be smugly satisfied, before the smile on Edmund's lips melted into a look of sheer incredulity. "_'A hideous burden_?'"

The ten-year-old decided (a little too late) that it might be a wise decision to beat a hasty retreat. Even before he scrambled off the bed, however, Edmund had lunged for the door.

As his older cousin slammed it shut, Eustace narrowly avoided catching his fingers in it.

Edmund wasn't finished: "I haven't seen you lift a _finger_ since we've gotten here, and you have the nerve to call us a_ hideous burden_?"

"Did I say that?" Eustace backed up nervously; Edmund's dark brown eyes were nearly black and although he knew (logically) that it was summer outside and that this attic room of Lucy's was almost always stuffy, the younger boy swore the temperature had dropped at least six degrees. "I-I meant that I…must be a hideous burden to-to you."

_Oh_, how he hated saying that, but he'd say anything to avoid a thrashing—which Edmund seemed very willing to give him right now.

Eustace knew he was a coward, as fervently as he denied it and as hard as he tried to conceal it. He'd survived at the Experiment House purely because of his ability to sidle out of any situation. Unfortunately, nothing about his cousins or how they reacted was what Eustace termed "_normal_," and it always managed to elicit emotions and reactions from him that he had not known he was even capable of feeling.

Edmund's mingled look of disgust and pity, for example, as he turned away.

Eustace _hated_ that look, more than anything else, because it somehow made him feel inadequate and unworthy. As a result, he felt a sharp spike of irritation and utter _fury_.

However, before he could open his mouth to give a truly poisonous retort, there came a sudden, terribly excited cry from Lucy, "Edmund, the painting…!"

IOIOIOIOIOI

Had Edmund never experienced such things before, the events that followed would have been a great deal more alarming. As it was, the sudden splash of shockingly cold seawater that leapt out of the painting (and all but drenched him) was completely unexpected.

Sputtering, Edmund wiped the salt water from his eyes and stared, chocolate brown irises widening.

It was an ordinary painting—well…it _had been_ an ordinary painting, at least. A very ordinary painting of a slightly extraordinary ship.

Granted, at this point, anyone would find the painting currently pouring out seawater extraordinary.

"Oh, smell it, Edmund! Isn't it delicious?" Lucy cried happily, as crisp, salt air whipped her hair about her face.

Edmund grinned and took a deep breath, before sending an equally delighted look at his sister. "Lucy! Do you suppose…?"

Lucy's grin only grew wider. "Yes! It must be!"

Perhaps because they had experienced other such events before, they did not give much thought to how a first time traveler might react. Eustace himself was, after all, a very different sort of boy than even Edmund had been the first time the Pevensies had entered Narnia.

They were reminded of his presence, however, when Eustace's voice, high and tight with panic, broke into their revelry: "_Stop it_! Whatever silly game you're playing, stop it! If you don't stop…I-I'll tell mother!" (conveniently forgetting, of course, that she was off at bingo.)

After much rattling of the door and generally forgetting that it opened the _opposite_ way, Eustace finally managed to yank it open…only to cry out in shock as a sudden gust of wind—the biggest one, yet—immediately slammed it shut.

Eustace still swore months later that he had heard a roar and a _click_ as the lock engaged.

He wheeled around, seeking an escape route like a caged thing—and that's when his eyes lighted on the painting still pouring water.

Determination and a slightly crazed glint entered his gray eyes: "I'll smash it, that's what I'll do!"

Leaping forward before either Lucy or Edmund could react, Eustace grabbed the frame and yanked it off the wall.

"Don't be a fool!" Edmund cried, rushing forward in an attempt to stop him.

He was too late: Eustace had already managed to tilt the picture in its frame a little too far forward and the water, which had previously been only a relatively harmless stream, now began gushing out.

Lucy, who had grabbed their cousin from the other side, cried out as she slipped and lost her footing.

Whipping around from where he had been struggling with Eustace, eyes wide with alarm, Edmund exclaimed, "_Lucy_!"

She yelped again as she tried to stand and was swept off her feet by a second swell of water.

Edmund dropped his end of the frame and reached out to grab her. Sputtering and coughing, Lucy came up out of the water, leaning heavily on her older brother's arm. "_Edmund_-!" she gasped, slightly shell-shocked.

Eustace, left to his own devices and not nearly as strong as he would have liked, dropped the painting onto the floor where it proceeded to spurt out water at a fantastic rate.

Within seconds Lucy's little attic room had become a veritable whirlpool, trapping the three cousins beneath its wildly swirling waters.

_Tbc._


	4. Remembered Echoes

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to C. S. Lewis and Walden Media.

_**Soundtrack Recommendations:**_ "The Painting" and "High King and Queen of Narnia"—all from _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ soundtrack

_**Author's Note:**_ Well, I was _going_ to say I wanted to try and get out the second chapter of _Honoring Him_ next week, but with the way this story is going, I'm not sure that's going to happen for a while (it still may—we'll have to see). Sorry I didn't get this chapter out sooner, but I was sick all last weekend (not fun, believe me). Still, here it is-::grins:: and I hope it's worth the wait! P.O.V. in this story may shift a lot—be advised of that. ::grins again:: But that's what makes writing so much fun. I hope you enjoy this!

_**Reviewers:**_ All _77_ of you, thank you!

_**Summary:**_ Two years after their adventure with Caspian, Edmund and Lucy return to Narnia. There, they are tested in ways only their older siblings will understand…(AU. _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_) (Book and Moviebased) (Siblingfic) (_NO _Slash) (SEQUEL TO KEEPING THE FAITH)

"_**Speech"**_

_**/Personal Thoughts/**_

_**Memories/Quotes (Italics)**_

_Honor Enough_

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Three: Remembered Echoes_

It was not a pleasant thing to be trapped beneath cold water, especially with your lungs burning for want of air; thus, Edmund resolved to remedy the situation as soon as possible. As soon as he sensed a shift in the water—from cold to slightly warmer—he swam against the current with all his might, struggling to reach his younger sister whom he had caught sight of not far off.

Just as he had grasped her arm and made to shove her towards the sky, they both broke the surface of the water, sputtering and gasping. Lucy yelped, falling backwards against his arm, and Edmund glanced up in alarm, noting how _close_ they were to the side of the ship they had so admired just moments prior in the painting. "_Swim_!" his little sister cried, turning to do just that.

The current tugged more strongly against their clothing; Edmund saw Lucy kick off her shoes and he moved swiftly to copy her. When Eustace broke the surface just after them—howling and sputtering and crying and coughing—Edmund merely grabbed their cousin's shirt collar and shoved the younger boy forward.

"_Swim_, Eustace!" Lucy repeated her cry, struggling against the undertow determined to swallow them whole.

Preoccupied with his own struggle against the ship's current and making sure Eustace stayed ahead of him, Edmund did not hear the half-dozen or so splashes that came from behind them. He did not even realize there was anyone else in the water with them until Lucy's delighted cry reached him above the crashing waves, "Ca-Ca-Caspian! Edmund, it's Caspian!"

At that moment, a hand firmly grasped his arm and held him upright. Startled, Edmund snapped his head around…and a small smile curved his lips as he dipped his head in greeting to his rescuer, "General."

Glozelle, son of Glosarian and Vice General of Narnia's army, blinked in momentary shock, before his own lips curled upwards into a faint smile. "Sire," he murmured.

IOIOIOIOIOI

As soon as they were hauled up onto the ship's deck, the two Pevensies were greeted by an overjoyed cry, "Edmund! Lucy!" and promptly found themselves yanked into a tight hug.

Lucy sputtered, shivered, and then laughed, as she and Edmund allowed themselves to be crushed in Caspian's delighted embrace.

"Caspian!" Edmund's exclamation was muffled, but no less joyful.

The older king's warm laughter answered him, as all three monarchs were wrapped in thick blankets. "What on _earth_ are you two doing here?"

Edmund pulled back with a large grin. "Does it matter? The point is…we _are_ here, and that's more than we had ever hoped for."

Lucy hopped back, too, eyes and face aglow. "How's Trumpkin? And Glenstorm? And-?"

Caspian threw back his head and gave a whole-hearted laugh. "You have not changed a bit, have you?"

A small smile tugged at Lucy's lips. "No—not much, anyway. But you have." She was able to take her time to examine him now: Caspian was taller, more broadly built, and even wore something of a goatee. Lucy thought it suited him.

Edmund noticed her look, and smirked knowingly, but mercifully kept silent. Turning back to Caspian and tugging his blanket more snugly around his shoulders, he asked softly, "How long has it been, Caspian?"

But Caspian only beamed, and pulled the two of them into another bone-crunching hug. "_Too_ long," he murmured, squeezing them tightly.

A moment later, he danced back, spinning around to face his men. "Everyone!" he laughed, smiling brightly. The sailors stopped their work (even though they hadn't really been working, too curious about these two strangers whom their young king was so happy to see). "Behold…our castaways! Edmund the Just and Lucy the Valiant—High King and Queen of Narnia!"

In many eyes, a light went on: for though most of these men had not been there when Caspian delivered Narnia from the hands of his uncle, all of them had heard the stories of the Four—ancient Kings and Queens who came from another world to save this one.

They just hadn't expected them to be so _young_.

Nonetheless, every man on that ship—including her Captain—went down on one knee. Glozelle had been the first, having experienced the Golden Monarchs' mercy and majesty firsthand.

Caspian had knelt at nearly the same time as his Vice General.

Lucy did not look at Edmund after that announcement: she smiled tightly, curtsied…and _prayed_ Caspian would not notice her discomfort. They had no "High Queen" in Narnia, and if they had, that title would have rightfully belonged to Susan—not Lucy.

They _did_ have a High King—and Lucy dreaded what Edmund's reaction would be to his newly acquired title.

/Not good, that much is certain,/ she determined, at last hazarding a glance at the younger of her two brothers.

Edmund's lips were pressed into a thin line and his fists had bunched in the thick material of his blanket. If Lucy looked closely, she could just make out the fact that his shoulders were faintly trembling.

She leaned into his shoulder: "Keep smiling, Ed," she murmured, making sure she did, as well. Her voice gentled, and softened, "Remember, they don't understand the difference."

Nor did they realize that the _only_ way Edmund would claim that title would be if Peter—

Lucy shook her head vigorously.

Naturally, her brother did not even want to imagine it.

"Queen? _King_? King of _what_?"

Eustace's sputter could not have had more impeccable timing.

IOIOIOIOIOI

It took a few moments for everything to be sorted out. Indeed, even when Glozelle _did_ explain why these men knelt and to whom, sheer incredulity wove itself into Eustace's face. But it succeeded in distracting the sailors away from examining the remaining Golden Monarchs too closely. While Edmund's mind shuddered at the implications of Eustace in Narnia, the overwhelming majority of his heart—at this moment, anyway—felt incredibly grateful.

As Caspian and his men stood, Narnia's youngest king hid a grimace. /I never thought I'd consider _thanking_ the blighter./

The vast majority of him felt like it had been ripped out and stomped on: he kept telling himself—as Lucy did—that Caspian _couldn't_ understand how deeply that title unsettled him. The ache of it was such that he could actually _feel_ it as a physical weight (in this case, crushing) on his heart, as (to Edmund's mind) that title _could only_ belong to his brother. To claim it would mean—

He bit back a gasp as his heart twisted sharply.

The older king's pronouncement had sent his heart plummeting into his gut. It was as if he'd been slammed into a brick wall: Peter _wasn't_ here; Eustace _was_—he felt the absence of his brother keenly, like a crippled limb.

Edmund wondered if Lucy felt the same—they had never_ been _here without Susan and Peter. For over eighteen years, the four siblings had rarely been separated. Granted, there had been occasions (like the Delivery of Anvard) when leagues stretched between them; still, they had at least known they were _in the same world_. No such reassurance would exist on this trip.

"Oh! _Ugh_! What is _that_?"

Eustace's voice mercifully interrupted Edmund's rapidly darkening thoughts and he glanced up sharply, all his senses on edge.

"That" turned out to be a Mouse, and a very familiar one at that.

"Reepicheep!" Lucy cried happily.

The startled Mouse, who had been trying to avoid Eustace's flailing arms in an attempt to help him upright, did not ever lose his balance. Merely turned sharply and even managed an elegant bow. "Your Majesties," he acknowledged softly.

In spite of everything, Edmund felt a small, reluctant grin creep onto his lips. "Hullo, Reep," he murmured.

The Mouse bowed again. "Sire."

Staring at the Mouse, Eustace tumbled straight down onto the wooden deck. Whirling on his cousins, he demanded, "D-Did you see?" He sputtered, seemingly expecting them to find this as bizarre and strange as he did, and was barely able to speak for the shock clogging his throat, "Did you _see_? It _talked_!"

Reepicheep turned back to him, dark eyes alight with amusement and twirling his whiskers, "Certainly, young sir."

"Indeed," Caspian observed with a warm, wry chuckle, "it is getting him to _stop_ talking that is the problem."

The chief Mouse turned to his young king, dark eyes glinting fondly, "When there is no longer anything important to _say_, your Majesty, then I shall keep quiet."

Caspian laughed and bowed his head in acknowledgement of the touché. As he did so, his Vice General dropped back to one knee, his own eyes sparkling in a way Edmund had not seen on their second trip here. A small smile even played at the man's lips, "You, Sir Mouse, believe _everything_ you have to say is important."

Reepicheep lightly shook his fist at the man's face, smiling, "Villain!" the Mouse piped in his shrill, high voice. "Scum! I demand repayment for your slight to my person!"

As Glozelle chuckled, finally standing upright, Edmund realized this had somehow become a playful, oft repeated argument, "All in good time, my friend. We must attend to our guests first."

"_Guest_?" that was Eustace again, and he shakily stood upright, dripping wet and using the ship's rail for balance. "I don't _want_ to be a guest! I want to go _home_! I demand that you take me home at _once_! Let me off this foul little tug—let me _go_, you hear!"

"Go?" Tavros the Minotaur spoke up, honest curiosity in his voice. "Go where?"

At that point, overwhelmed and disbelieving, Eustace simply fainted.

Tavros's eyes widened in alarm. "Was it something I said?"

IOIOIOIOIOI

Really, Edmund had to feel sorry for him. Eustace had arrived in a world where fairy stories were real, and where the cousins he loathed were considered heroes of the same caliber as King Arthur.

Unfortunately, Eustace (by his very nature) made it difficult for Edmund to feel anything _but_ pity for long.

"Is he all right?" Caspian whispered, worriedly eyeing the prone form that Tavros had clumsily swung up into his arms.

In spite of himself, Edmund snorted and rolled his eyes. "He will be," the younger king murmured.

At that moment, Lucy sneezed.

Both young men jumped. Galvanized into action, Caspian unwrapped his own blanket from around his shoulders, tugging it snugly around Lucy, "Oh, what a fool I've been to keep you out here in your wet things! Rynelf!"

As said man appeared at his king's elbow, Glozelle shooed the rest of the sailors back to work, earning a grateful smile from Edmund.

The older Telmarine merely bowed his head in acknowledgement of the gratitude, before frowning slightly as he took note of Caspian's shivering form. "My King," he objected softly.

Caspian started slightly, turning away from where he had requested Rynelf bring out some spiced wine. "Yes?" he asked, blinking.

Lucy smothered a tiny giggle (and another sneeze) as the Vice General's frown deepened. "My Lord, you shall catch a chill."

Caspian blushed when he realized what the older man was frowning about. "We _are_ going inside, General, I promise."

Glozelle frowned even more. "Please do, your Majesty." His own blanket had since made its way to Caspian's shoulders, in almost the same way as Caspian's had to Lucy's. "Shall I meet you there?"

"Aye, General," Caspian agreed softly, still blushing.

Bowing, Glozelle swiftly followed Tavros as the Minotaur brought Eustace below-decks.

As Caspian turned back to Edmund and Lucy, the young queen finally allowed herself a bright laugh. "Oh, Caspian, if you could see your face right now…"

The older king's cheeks seared, and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. His embarrassment, however, did nothing to diminish the utter joy shining in his face (oh, to have his friends back!). "He is normally like that nowadays."

Edmund grinned, brutally shoving away the ache his chest. Consciously, he decided to focus on the moment, determined not to think about it, "Hardly surprising when you consider what you have had deal with. I'd hate to see what happens when he teams up with Glenstorm."

At Caspian's clear wince, Edmund laughed, and Lucy perked up to hear it. "You really do not want to know," the older king muttered, his expression comically woeful.

IOIOIOIOIOI

(An Hour Later, Stern Cabin)

Warmed to their toes by the spiced wine, Edmund and Lucy found themselves being escorted all over the ship by Caspian an hour later. With a flourish and a large grin, the older king pushed open the stained-sunset doors to his cabin, eager to show off the ship which was his pride and joy.

An appreciative gasp from Lucy told the older king that he had been successful, and a warm glow filled his chest as he surreptitiously studied the pleasure radiating from her face. "It's lovely, Caspian!" she exclaimed.

The Valiant Queen, of course, was dressed in the clothes she had borrowed from Caspian, but the fifteen-year-old was delighted to see he had indeed been right in his assumption that his friend had hardly changed at all. Still as sincere as he remembered her, Lucy's delight was genuine.

He shared a grin with Edmund (also dressed in borrowed clothes, although these belonged to Glozelle), remembering a similarly pleased Lucy's response to Aslan's How.

"I had it commissioned with the two of you in mind," the older king admitted softly, indicating a fresco of Edmund and Lucy sitting together on the wall of said How with a light touch. He moved to indicate the largest mural with a sweep of his arm. "I also wanted to be sure I remembered your brother and sister."

The frieze was of the four Golden Monarchs at their prime, riding their horses through Lantern Waste.

"There are other pictures, of course," he indicated the four corners of the cabin (and, incidentally, the four cardinal directions), "To the Northern Skies, High King Peter; to the Southern Sun, Queen Susan; to the Western Wood, King Edmund, or _just_ Edmund, if you like," this stated teasingly, as the older king reminded Edmund of his insistence on ignoring titles. "And to the Eastern Sea…you, Lucy, the Valiant Queen. But I think what you'd most like to see is _underneath_ the frescos…" he stepped forward to stand in front of Lucy's portrait and picked up a very familiar bottle and belt.

Sheer delight and a great deal of gratitude lit up Lucy's eyes. "The Gifts! Oh, _thank you_, Caspian!"

But she paused just before she took back her Gifts, suddenly looking slightly uncomfortable.

A light frown dusted Caspian's lips. "Lucy?" he asked.

She blushed—rather brightly. "May I?"

Caspian's face cleared. "Of course—they are yours. I only kept them for you."

The brilliant smile she laid on him caused a curious heat to creep up into his cheeks—which promptly turned into a full-blown blush when Lucy kissed his cheek as she accepted her cordial and dagger from him.

Caspian heard Edmund smother a sudden laugh in the background, and turned to frown at him.

The other king merely gave an unrepentant grin. "_You_ haven't changed much, either," the younger teen observed wryly.

A sheepish smile touched Caspian's lips and he shrugged shyly.

IOIOIOIOIOI

As the older king headed for another inlaid cabinet behind him, Edmund surreptitiously studied Lucy as his little sister went over to examine Susan's bow and quiver of arrows. An unwelcome pang pierced his heart as he noticed the utter care with which she lightly caressed their older sister's beloved Gift. For the first time since coming to Aunt Alberta's (and from there, into Narnia), he saw the loneliness his little sister had tried to hide.

Just then, Caspian returned his side, a warm grin hovering on his lips, and Edmund turned sharply once he sensed him, caught completely off-guard. The older king, Aslan bless him, merely furrowed his brow in confusion and slight concern, "Edmund?" he asked softly.

Edmund released a quiet breath, vigorously shaking his head and offering up a faint smile, "Never mind me, Caspian. What is it?"

The fifteen-year-old raised an eyebrow, but did not press him. Instead, he held out a very familiar red sheath with a faint smile, "I believe this rightfully belongs to you."

An involuntary shudder wracked his body: it was Peter's sword—it was _Rhindon_.

Edmund's heart plummeted straight through the floor. /Aslan help me./

_Tbc._


End file.
